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Times are changing
More so each year
But the early morning
Stoned pimp is here
So let it rain
And let the guitar rock
And if you hear me, y'all
Just drop that top
Good God
Hey, hey, hey
Hey, hey, hey
Good God
And I be clutchin' them northern pipes
Like on a ten pound test, smoke sess, never fess, take a guess
I be the early morning stoned pimp, straight limpin'
Boone's Farm drinkin', at the party big booty pinchin'
Chillin', like a villain, balloon fillin'
Wack MC killin', the fine ho drillin'
The million dollar talent and the ten cent brain
(You've been gone too long, too much cocaine)
But now that I'm back on the block, I'm ready to rock
Left to right all night, my game's tight
I wish you might take a bite outta this
Intoxic melodic erotic product
Fresh from the harvest, who be the largest
Hardest, smartest label in town?
(Top Dogg get down)
Oh, radio won't play me (Uh-uh)
Still I got the kids around the world
They goin' Kid Rock crazy
And wicked witches, they flyin' on broomsticks
Kid Rock be comin' with the boom-boom-boom
I'm from the sticks, straight from the R-O
(Yo, Rock, where them hoods at, bro?) I don't even know
So quit frontin' like y'all don't know
When I step straight into the party with my homeboy Joe
Get a good look, bro, hit a good ganja
I'm made in Detroit, but my name ain't Stanga
Spreadin' like a cancer, a virus
Why you lookin' really gay like Billy Ray Cyrus?
(Yo, Rock, ain't you the highest MC of all time?)
I got my mind on the D and the D on my mind
And the line gets drawn when my eyes can't see
Hit me twice with the 'Tussin and the morphine IV
I be what they call an O.G. (O.G.)
I'm the motherfuckin' early morning stoned pimp
No sellout nigga, I'm a pimp
No sellout bitch, straight pimp
No sellout bitch, come on
Come on, throw your hands in the air and let's rock, y'all
Just throw your hands up high, hip-hop, y'all
Just throw your hands in the air and let's rock, y'all
Because a Kid Rock party don't stop, y'all
Just throw your hands up high, let's rock, y'all
Just throw your hands side to side, hip-hop, y'all
Just throw your hands in the air and let's rock, y'all
Because a Detroit party don't stop, y'all
I'm the self-made mack on a mountain of Marbs
I got the money green Cutty with the high pro claws
A Lincoln Continental and a Grand Marquis
Ragtop dropped down, rollin' on chrome D's
The purple furs (Uh-huh), the gold-trimmed glasses
I only bust the fat asses
And I don't be givin' a fuck who the hell can rap better than me
I'm a true fuckin' player (Uh-huh), mack like a real G
H-I-J-K-L-M-N-O-P
It's for pimpin', early mornin' stoned pimpin'
I've been down, been around, from the bottom to the top
Partyin' down with the slimmies in the city center box, so, uh
Ooh baby, baby, baby, let me love ya
If you wanna get your freak on
I just kick it with the ooh-ah, ooh-ooh-ooh-ah
Uh, I'm the early mornin' stoned pimp
No sellout nigga, call me a pimp
No sellout bitch, straight pimp
No sellout bitch, come on
Detroit, come on
Throw your hands in the air and let's rock, y'all
Just throw your hands up high, hip-hop, y'all
Just throw your hands in the air and let's rock, y'all
Because a Kid Rock party don't stop, y'all
Just throw your hands up high, let's rock, y'all
Just throw your hands side to side, hip-hop, y'all
Just throw your hands in the air and let's rock, y'all
Because a Detroit party don't stop, y'all
My name is Joe C
Let me get them digits
I might be a little small
But I ain't no fuckin' damn midget
Stickin' up your ass where the sun don't shine
Vertically challenged, you're vertically blind
Three-foot-nine, that's ten-foot long
Smackin' ass niggas after I pack this bong
I can flow all night, like all night long
From the break of dawn to the early morn
Thorn in your side (And I can feel you stickin')
Eighty pills a day, it's a giant bullshittin'
Groove, baby, groove, baby, call your mama
Like John Lee Hooker, girl
With the boogie trauma, yeah
(What you got?)
With the boogie trauma, yeah
With the boogie trauma, yeah, yeah, yeah
With the boogie trauma, yeah
Ridin' around the neighborhood
Me and Joe C were up to no good
With the boogie trauma, yeah
With your leather mini-skirt and we got some wine
Playin' the radio, you look so fine
The boogie trauma, yeah, oh
With the boogie trauma
Tra-tra-tra-tra-tra-tra-tra-tra-trauma
The boogie trauma, yeah, oh
The boogie trauma
The boogie trauma
The boogie trauma, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
The boogie trauma
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